


Red's Not His Color

by moroseconcept



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Gen, implied character death but not really, keith's POV mostly, mostly platonic relationships in this one, shallura heavily implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroseconcept/pseuds/moroseconcept
Summary: Altean healing pods display different colors based on the status of those within them.Red really doesn't look good on Lance.





	Red's Not His Color

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a doodle I did for the angst prompts made by tumblr user kaxpha.  
> The prompt was death and I drew klance because I'm shipper garbage.  
> Then I decided that it needed to be a little fic as well.
> 
> As per usual, my trash is unbeta'd.

 

Lance's eyes were unfocused, dull, and tears were leaking out steadily despite his slack expression.  Keith pressed his hand over the gaping wound in his side a little harder, pulled him high up into his lap. If he'd been wearing his helmet, he wouldn't have heard the tiny broken whine.

“Hang in there, Lance. We're almost to the castle, just hang on. Keith how's he doing?” Hunk’s voice warbled, clearly trying not to cry.

Keith didn't answer, couldn't. The slow shallow rise and fall of Lance's chest had stopped. The blue paladin was limp in his arms, head dropped forward lifeless. The blood smeared across Lance's face was drying, and the heat of his abdomen was already cooling.

“No no no no no. We should have listened to you Lance. You were right and it was a trap. Your plan was better.” Shiro’s voice sounds strained and shaky over the speaker. His face looks gaunt and pinched on the screen.

No gloating response or I told you so.

“Y-you’re the better pilot. Red is fast but you fly better, okay? And my haircut is awful and I'll start listening to you skin care rules if you just--”

“His vitals have ceased.” Coran’s voice is quiet and clipped.

Keith barely registered the lurch of the yellow lion landing in her hanger. He barely felt Hunk pulling him to his feet and guiding him out of the cockpit.

Allura was waiting at bottom of the ramp, eyes rimmed red. Her body was larger than normal, dwarfing both conscious paladins, the massive muscles of her legs were tense in readiness. Lance was snatched from Keith's arms before he could react, and then she was gone and Lance was gone with her. He turned back to Hunk, jaw tight. 

The yellow paladin sobbed loudly as he threw his arms around Keith's shoulders. Keith hugged his waist tightly, pressed his into the dirty yellow armor. Neither of them moved when the other lions landed, nor when after looking at two for a moment Pidge ran ahead. Shiro guided them down the hall in silence.

The medical bay was a mess. Pidge was clutching at Lance's armor and sniffling quietly, shoulders jerking with her quiet anguish. Allura sat beside the center pod, head in her hands.

“She gave quite a bit of quintessence to him.” Coran said quietly, not looking up from the console he was typing at furiously.

“Princess…” Shiro knelt and squeezed her knee in something unsure but trying for comforting and when Keith pulled his gaze away from then it landed in the large dark pod. A whine clawed its way out of his chest, high and raw and broken.

 

Lance was floating in dark fluid, bandages around his bare chest and head, a mask covering his sunken features, and so many tubes connected to him that. The screen that should have displayed a timer was blank. The display for his vitals which should have been a clean crisp turquoise, that Keith would have accepted as a dim ugly yellow, was flashing a deep dark red.

“We're doing what we can, but it may be too late. I am so sorry.”

Keith whipped around, eyes wide and manic. Coran’s voice was too subdued, his posture shrinking even as he refocused on his console. Allura was apologizing repeatedly, the sound muffled where her face was pressed into Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro for his part was holding her tight, shoulders squared, but he was staring up at Lance with an expression that Keith had never seen. Pidge had discarded her glasses, was rubbing furiously at her eyes. Hunk wore no emotion on his face for once and it made Keith sick to see it.

“He's dead.” Hunk said and something clicked suddenly, the tears starting up with renewed vigor. The pain in his eyes was unfathomable.

“But I didn't even say goodbye.”

 

It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real. Keith felt detached from everything, like someone watching a show. It occurred to him that he couldn't really hear the others anymore. It was all white noise.

This was all wrong. Lance with his vivid blue eyes; his affinity for the bright blue water; his heartfelt bond with a sleek blue lion. Lance shouldn't be covered in a red so dark it was almost purple; shouldn't be casting shadows from awful red lights on a healing pod they'd never seen used before. The wrongness of it struck Keith so abruptly that he laughed.

“Red really isn't his color.”

 

Four months had dragged on. The castle was tense like when Shiro had disappeared, but it was also painfully quiet. It hasn't taken any of them long to miss Lance's jokes and laughter even when it was so often ill timed. If Shiro’s absence during the war had stretched the team far too thin and frayed their nerves, the Lance's had stopped any forward momentum they had and shattered their heart.

Pidge was hyper focused. She barely slept, ate only when the others dragged her away or brought food to her where was camped out. She was working on an algorithm that would analyze battle tactics. She'd been working on it in passively before, but now it consumed her because if she'd been smarter...if she'd worked faster...been better, Lance would be there still.

Hunk cooked every meal every day and then some, engrossed himself in maintenance of the castle and the Lions when he wasn't cooking. He paid special attention to the blue lion, talking to her and telling her stories that would have embarrassed Lance. He told and retold them to anyone who would listen because he couldn't risk forgetting anything about Lance. If he'd only remembered how high Lance's marks were as a tactician at the Garrison or how well his plans worked out here in space, he could have seen that attack like Lance had and could have stopped it.

The lion remained unresponsive to them, in a low power mode, and occasionally letting out a low crooning noise. She moved when Hunk asked, flew when Allura need to take the place of paladin for missions that would potentially require Voltron, but her bond was weak.

Allura could only assume she was grieving since the lion would not communicate with her. The princess fulfilled her duties and carried herself with the regal dignity she knew she needed. She found herself in the old AI chamber many times, wondering to the mice or no one at all about the possibility of uploading him. The warmth of the blossoming romance between her and Shiro dwindled and all but died. Shiro still sat with her, still held her hand sweetly, but he wasn't really there. And it was fine that way. If she'd opened her heart to the blue paladin more, rather than labelling him a goof and a flirt and moving on, she would heard his confidence and trepidation that day. She could have saved him.

Shiro had a job to do and he was trying desperately to be the perfect leader. He redoubled his efforts to pay each of his team special attention, focused on honing his abilities not just as a pilot but as a diplomat and a friend. If he let himself have time the guilt consumed him because he was the one who ultimately ignored Lance's misgivings about that mission. He was the one who directed Lance into a trap the blue paladin was sure would be waiting. If he'd been better, Lance would be safe and his team whole.

Keith trained until he collapsed. He took up residence in Lance's room and paid as much attention to his appearance as he could stand. He kept his hair clean and dry and tied back because Lance had said it looked good. He washed his face until it stung and the red blotches made him cry and the mice took to helping him with facials and clipping his nails. They'd done it for Lance and who was Keith to deny them that. When Coran banned him from use of the training room for days, he'd pull on Lance's jacket and wander the castle trying to pick up Lance's habit of idling with the others.

Coran’s behavior didn't change much. He kept things running and his stories about the past never stopped. His eyes belied his grief: they lingered on Lance's empty seat, his door, his armor. He looked at Earth on the star map with a painfully tired expression that aged him beyond his ten thousand plus years. He didn't smile as much.

 

By Earth time, it had been a year to the day. The castle was doing its work on Lance made it unnecessary for anyone to go into the medical bay to check on him except for a monthly update they all needed. Even if the update was “no change, status critical” it still meant that  “deceased” had not officially come up yet. He was still alive, if barely.

Keith woke to an odd pulling sensation in his chest, like the voice of the Red lion but frantic and bubbly. He darted out of his room, almost colliding with the wall of Hunk’s chest.

“You feel it too right?” Hunk was still in his pajamas, hair a mess and headband askew.

Shiro joined them, catching Pidge when she stumbled out of her room. The green paladin was barely awake but her eyes were bright.

“It's different from my lion. It's too much feeling.”

“It's Blue.” Allura announced when the met her in the main hall. “But I can't imagine what's brought such a surge of energy to her.”

“Maybe she's opening herself to a new paladin.” Shiro looked as if the words he'd spoken tasted bad.

“That's not how their quintessence works. Lions only reach out to the other paladins in extreme circumstances like…” Coran fumbled and suddenly Keith was wide awake.

“It's Lance!”

He was running toward the medical bay before the others could respond. Then the others were following him, all wild in their pace and panic. Keith skidded to a stop, eyeing Lance's pale face for a change that wasn't there.

The blue paladin was floating, frozen. No bright blue eyes, no glittering white smile, no flailing gestures or animated enthusiasm. Just dull liquid, dull skin, dull lifeless limbs cast in ugly yellow light.

Wait.

“Y-yellow!” Keith yelled, pointing to the display even as he stumbled closer, unblinking. “He's getting better.”

“He's not out of the woods, my boy.” Coran was at the console, broad smile barely contained in his face. “But this is definite progress. He's headed in the right direction!”

The relief was palpable. The excitement was heady as they all crowded Lance's pod to encourage him.

 

Pidge moved her computers to a corner of the medical bay. Hunk started telling Lance stories about the planets and people he was missing. Shiro and Allura visited together, holding hands. Shiro would talk out mission plans with the others, bounce ideas of Lance's prone form. Allura would tell Lance about diplomatic meetings, about Altea, recite awful jokes from her childhood. Keith moved from Lance's room to the medical bay and trained a little less. Coran talked more, moved around and emoted like before: still tired, still sad, but hopeful. 

  
Three months later, Lance's vitals were the prettiest shade of turquoise any of them had ever seen.


End file.
